A/N: Hello all! I'm the worst for starting a new story when I have so many that are open, but I am hoping that this fresh idea might open the floodgates on my writers block and I can make a few updates to my open ones.

This story is very different than my normal bread and butter. Someone commented the other day that I'm a diehard Sanrion shipper and they were totally right. But lately I've been reading some just amazing modern AU Jonsa stories and I got this little nugget stuck in my head and had to try it out. I'm usually TERRIBLE at modern adaptations, so please go easy on me 3

Also, I NEVER do this either, but since this is a modern AU, I think it's necessary. I'm going to go ahead and roughly sketch out ages!

Jon - 26

Robb - 26

Theon - 26

Rhaenys - 24

Aegon - 22

Sansa - 21

Arya - 19

Bran - 17

Rickon - 15

Wishing the happiest of holidays to you all!

...

Jon pulled his scarf a little tighter around his face as he trudged through the snow, approaching the basement door. The wind was getting colder and he knew this winter would be a brutal one. He finally made it to the shelter of the snow covered deck and bent down to untie his boots. He knew if he dared to drag in even a little bit of the grey slush that clung to his winter boots, Mrs Stark would throw a fit. He didn't want to subject Robb to another lecture from his mother or cause her to ban him from her home over the holidays. Gods knew he would rather be here, even if it meant tiptoeing around the judgmental Mrs Stark, than face the loneliness at home.

He knew he would be happier spending Christmas as the Stark stray than he ever would with his adoptive family. He didn't know whether to be hurt or not at not actually receiving an invitation this year to join the Targaryen annual Christmas Cruise. Sure, Jon hadn't actually joined them since he moved out a few years ago, but there was still something barbed about not even being given a choice.

Rhaegar had always treated him like the chess piece he was - useful in a moment, forgotten in the next. Elia, Jon had to admit, had been as kind as he could ever have expected her to be. Yet how could she be a mother to someone who's very existence had so embarrassed her? They had brought him into their home, rescued him from the foster care system, housed and clothed him, given him the best education and given him opportunities he could never have dreamed of, but it was the Starks who had given him just a taste of the love a family could give.

Once his boots were shed and left to drip dry on the doormat, he slid the basement door open without knocking. Mrs Stark aside, he had always been welcome at 13787 Winterfell Road. The house had been large enough that Jon could always escape her sharp eyes, but never had the cold, empty feeling that the Targaryen homestead always held, and after the first few years, he had settled in to being the 'Stark Stray'- a term coined by Arya. The nickname would have been hurtful coming from anyone else, but somehow it sounded like a term of endearment coming from Arya and Jon had accepted in with a smile. Most of his fondest memories had been with one Stark or the other, rather than his adoptive siblings.

He made his way into the basement, hanging up his heavy coat and grabbing a beer out of the 'kids' fridge. He cracked it open, chuckling slightly at the thought that old Ned and Cat had stubbornly ignored how beer and wine had taken over the fridge that used to only hold sodas and juice. A roar of laughter alerted him to the other's whereabouts and he turned the corner, catching Robb laughing joyfully at the sight of Arya absolutely demolishing Theon in Super Smash Brothers on the projected screen that took up the whole wall. The Stark game room, coined by he and Robb as The Wolf's Den, was where Jon had spent the majority of his childhood. Every day after school, one could have found the whole crew down here. Robb, Jon, Theon, Sansa, Arya, Bran, and even little Rickon had found peace in these four walls. Arya had quickly surpassed them all in any videogame, though Jon still held the title of air hockey champion. Theon, the neighbor kid who would teeter between annoying and entertaining, knew just how to season the fresh popcorn out of the machine- with his helpful little taste-testers at his heels. Sansa had painted a beautiful wolf mural for Robb's birthday one year, and although the paint had worn over the years, it was still lovely- a testament to how her artistic talent would grow.

Bran and Rickon took over the Theon roasting as Robb noticed him and came over, holding out his own bottle of Sam Adams to clink Jon's. "Together again, huh? Just like old times." His grin was infectious and Jon couldn't help but return it. While Jon and Robb had stayed close and still hung out frequently, Arya had just started at Bear Island University and Jon had sorely missed her presence. Theon had waffled back and forth from his Uncle's homes and came back North rarely as well. Next year, they would also lose Bran, who had just been accepted at 'The Neck' a prestigious trade school where he could hone his robotics talents.

"Not quite, we're still missing a wolf," Jon gave a strained smile, nodding at the wall.

Robb rolled his eyes. "Tonight, then. If we're being a stickler." A roar went up as Arya kicked Theon's character over the cliffside, cementing her win, and Robb pushed forward, ruffling his little sister's hair proudly.

The final Stark sibling was due to arrive that evening and Jon was conflicted about seeing her. It had been two years since Sansa had left for King's Landing University - since the last time Jon had seen her. Two full years since she had confessed to seeing him as more than just her older brother's best friend. Gods, Jon could still remember that day. She had been just about to leave - had spent the day celebrating her graduation. Mrs Stark had even allowed her one of those watermelon wine coolers and Jon was sure it was in that that she had found the courage to follow him out at the end of the night and spill her truth.

Her words had shaken him, in all truth. For what seemed like the first time, he had seen her not as a little girl, but as a woman. Her sun-warmed skin in that white sundress. Her soft red hair in a braid over her shoulder. Those bright blue eyes gazing up at him like he was a hero. How it had crushed him to see those eyes fill with tears as he had tried to gently let her down. But how could he have done anything else? She was about to run towards a glowing future. The scholarship she had received on her photography skills was a once in a lifetime opportunity. And a pretty girl like Sansa did not need anything tying her back. He told himself it was for the best that he send her on her way, but he was struck by the silence that followed once she was gone. He had suddenly realized just how often she had been there - not just his best friends little sister, but as a figure in his life all her own. When she had just vanished south, it had left a hole in his heart that he had struggled to fill.

He had cursed himself for being so alert to news of her, his attention becoming rapt whenever any of the Starks had mentioned her. He heard second hand how much she had flourished in the south. How she had developed as an artist and how she had been featured in multiple KLU showcases in just her first two years. How the Lannister group had taken her under their wing- giving her opportunities both behind and in front of the camera. And when news came that she was involved in the Lannister boy, he tried to tell himself he didn't care.

This was the first time she was coming home for the holidays and Jon was anxious to see her again. He didn't know if he could handle seeing her shining as the star he had sent her to be without him.